


needle & thread

by linderella



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Brief feature of deleted scene from The Last Jedi, Finn is injured, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, M/M, Not Bendemption Friendly, Not Reylo friendly, Poe Dameron's Jacket, Poe stitching Finn's jacket, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, The Jacket, poe dameron karé kun friendship, rey and poe become friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-20 03:10:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20668334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linderella/pseuds/linderella
Summary: This is not something Snap should mend. Poe wants to do it himself, even if his stitching skills aren’t any good. He fumbles in the drawer of his desk, and he finds one lone needle and spool of thread, almost entirely unused.Poe lines up the split sections of the jacket, and for a moment appreciates that Kylo Ren was merciful enough not to tear it to shreds. It’s still salvageable. Broken, but still good. He carefully threads the needle and lines it up with the fabric, and gets to work.





	needle & thread

When Poe gets back from Starkiller, there isn’t time to go straight to debrief before he sees a crowd of people huddling around someone with an air of concern. Someone is yelling for medical attention. Poe feels his heart freeze in place, because while all his pilots are okay, he also knows Finn and Rey were out of touch for a sizable portion of the time.

Over the next few hours, Poe learns as much as he’s allowed from the doctors: Finn will be okay, but he’s got a severe spinal injury. He’s also comatose, for now. They fill him in on the exact injuries to his spine, though they don’t let Poe see the wound. They don’t have to. He can imagine it. He’s seen enough lightsabers in his life to know what they're capable of. 

Despite all this, the doctors assure Poe that they’re hopeful. They think Finn will be able to walk fine after enough physical therapy and time, which is a relief but also makes Poe’s chest hurt. It’s a devastating injury to have, even if it gets better. Not to mention how Finn got hurt in the first place. Who knows what kind of therapy that’s going to take.

Poe has to go back to his duties that evening, returning for a late debrief with the general and the rest of the pilots. He feels fortunate that they haven’t lost a single member of his own squadron, though other pilots were not so lucky. The tone of the room is as somber as he feels, radiating around General Organa herself. She is a vortex of grief, though her strength is a wall around it. But Poe knows her better than that—she is more than his superior. Poe thinks, for a moment, about the letter of condolence he’d received as a seven-year-old boy after his own mother had died. 

Poe hadn’t been able to build up the courage to read the letter until he was almost twelve years old. It hurt too much to think about. Of course, when he finally did, there was no overflow of emotion. He was removed from the event, older. Besides, that letter had been professional and full of respect. But now, Poe sees the general at her most vulnerable. She is mourning them both, he knows. This isn’t just Han’s death, it is her son’s too. This is how she knows he’s gone.

She doesn’t keep them long. Standing in the back of the room is who Poe assumes is Rey, standing tall and staring straight ahead. She looks strong on the outside, but Poe somehow knows that if he touched her, the fragile glass wall she’s built around herself would shatter. Poe himself knows the grief in this room is heavy, so when the meeting finally lets out, he lingers behind.

His pilots wait by the door, excited and filled with life again. They hug, they cry. Poe can’t help but shed a few tears of joy himself, proud and relieved that they made it out of the mission with so few casualties. It’s a miracle, without a doubt. Poe can’t deny it.

“This seems like as good a time as ever to break out my stash of alcohol,” Jess says in a singsong tone. “I don’t know what other event would require a celebration like this one.” The rest of the pilots start chattering excitedly, and Poe stops to look out at the setting sun over the landing tarmac outside. Karé, one of his pilots and longest friends, notices this. She sticks behind.

“Is he okay?” She whispers to Poe once they’re out of earshot of the others. Poe nods, trying to smile. This is a miracle, after all. There’s plenty of reason to mourn today, but there’s also plenty of reason to celebrate. 

“He’ll get better,” Poe tells her. “Spinal injury, but he’ll get better." 

Karé smiles gently, lifting her hand to rest on Poe’s shoulder. Poe is her superior, but they’ve got history and friendship behind them that supersedes all formalities. She knows Poe’s darkest secrets, his worst moments. She’d defected from the Republic fleet with him, determined to fight for a better future.

“You wanna get drunk?” She asks, still smiling.

Poe presses his lips together, then shakes his head. “No.”

“Come anyway,” Karé responds, her smile turned upward in the corner. “I don’t want you to be alone.”

*

No one throws parties quite like the Resistance. Or, more accurately, no one like Jessika Pava. 

It takes all of three hours for the word to run all the way through every branch of the Resistance, going down the line like dynamite. Poe promised Karé he’d be there tonight, and he’s always been somewhat of an extrovert, so he knows she’s right. Being around people will probably make him feel better.

It’s a huge celebration in the woods on the edge of the tarmac, with music and dancing and a couple hundred Resistance members laughing and hugging and thanking their lucky stars they’ve lived to see another day, a day where part of the First Order has been devastated. Even if this victory is small in the grand scheme of things, Poe doesn’t mind the celebration. It’s proof that the fire of hope is still alive.

Poe sticks true to his promise not to get drunk, still thinking about Finn and the smoking flesh of his back. Even when Jess and Snap—both drunk on who-knows-what is being passed around—pull Poe by both of his hands to the dance floor, he doesn’t indulge them. Instead, he watches as his friends dance with their hands to the sky, laughing in the thick humidity of D’Qar’s endless heat. This, Poe has to remind himself, is what they are still fighting for. This.

When he finally finds a moment to sneak away, he only does so to catch his breath. Everyone else has all this _ energy _ right now, maybe from the drinks or from the dancing, but Poe is bone tired. He leans up against the trunk of a thick tree, breathing in the warm air. And then he sees her, doing the same.

Poe is embarrassed to admit that despite being here for a few hours already, he hasn’t noticed Rey all night. Maybe she’s not been here very long. Maybe she hadn’t wanted Poe to see her. He isn’t sure. But Rey is looking out into the crowd, a ghost of a smile on her face as firelight is reflected on her sunburnt face. Poe walks closer to her, unsure of what he’s going to say. 

When he finally arrives next to her, he still hasn’t thought of anything remarkable. So instead, he says, “Hey.”

Rey isn’t startled by him. “Hi.” She replies, and then looks at him. “You’re Poe.” She isn’t asking. She already knows. He has no doubts that she’s heard enough about him from BB-8, since he can’t seem to spend a moment in silence. Poe wonders if she’s heard about him from Finn, too, which sends a shiver through his body, just for a moment.

“Guilty,” Poe says finally, smiling at her. He nudges her with his shoulder, trying to be friendly. “And you’re Rey, correct?”

She nods, still guarded. Poe understands that. So instead of pushing her, he keeps his distance. “Thanks for taking care of my droid.” It’s genuine sentiment. When he’d finally collected himself after the crash, he’d thought that BB-8 hadn’t made it. He’d sent the droid off, but Poe knew then that capturing a droid wasn’t hard. 

Rey shrugs, smiling more now. “He’s a great little droid,” she admits. “He was worried about you, of course. He’d thought you’d died.”

Poe’s smile drops. Rey’s does too now, and for a moment, the ambiance of the celebration and beat of the music nearly fades between them. Poe knows that Rey is thinking about Starkiller too. She’s studying Poe now, taking him all in. He understands that, too. He’s seen it a hundred times before. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Rey asks him. Poe nods.

*

They end up in Rey’s temporary quarters, sitting across from each other on the two different beds in the room. Rooms like this, for cadets, are made to be shared. But they aren’t at capacity quite yet, so Rey is alone here. Poe thinks that even if they _ were _are capacity, Rey would probably still have the room to herself. She’s been through a lot. 

Rey asks about Kylo Ren after a few moments of silence. Poe tells her what he knows: he’s Snoke’s apprentice, trained in the dark side of the Force. He doesn’t have time to mention his family tree before Rey connects the dots herself.

“He’s their son?” She asks, her voice cracking under the weight of it all. “Leia and Han?” 

Poe hasn’t heard anyone call her _ Leia _ in ages, except for his father. Rey is radiating that same energy again, like she’s an unstable house of cards. Poe just nods. This seems to upset her more, and Poe sees two tears roll down her cheeks, even in the dim light of the eerily empty room.

“I watched him die,” Rey tells Poe suddenly, and Poe’s chest tightens. When Rey sees him waiting, she elaborates. “Finn was there too. Kylo Ren killed Han. Didn’t even hesitate.”

Poe knew this already from the debrief, and he’s not shocked. He’s never had much faith in the general’s son, but his blood boils all the same at the thought of Leia losing Han to this—to this _ parasite _ of a child. He can’t comprehend it. He thinks about his own mother, and for just a moment, his father, too. He thinks about what he’d do to spend even another second with his mother, and he has to take a deep breath to control himself.

Rey is similar. There is no fragile sadness on her face right now, just rage. She shakes her head in fury, gripping the sheets beneath her. “And then he tried to kill Finn,” she says, and Poe feels another wave of anger and fear. “I was there. I couldn’t stop him in time. I tried, but I couldn’t do it.”

Poe nods, then sets his jaw. “I wouldn’t expect you to. None of us would. He’s incredibly skilled, highly trained. The fact you both made it out alive is enough.” There are no longer tears in Rey’s eyes.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Rey tells him, her face set in what seems to be a mix of leftover fury and bravery. She still has cuts from whatever she’d been subjected to over the past few days, and her face is still sunburned from being outside in the desert, reminding Poe she’s just a girl and that she’s not used to all this. She’s not even been gone long enough for Jakku’s marks to have faded from her skin. “I’m going to find Luke Skywalker.”

Poe sighs. He'd expected this. “Are you ready for that?”

Rey laughs dryly. “Well, I don’t know how I’ll ever know that. I don’t think I was ready to fly the Millenium Falcon, or fight Kylo Ren either. I guess I’ll just…find out.”

There’s a beat of silence. Finally, Rey stands from her spot on the bed adjacent and moves to sit next to Poe. She looks at him with sincerity in her eyes, and Poe knows she’s sizing him up again. He lets her do it, because he’s given her no real reason to trust him yet. He can’t say the same about her, considering she’s just risked her life in direct combat with Kylo Ren himself. She’s risked everything for a cause that’s done nothing for her.

“Will you watch over him?” Rey asks. “Finn? Will you be there when he wakes up?” 

Poe’s chest deflates in relief. He’d already have to be dragged away from Finn, but Rey asking him means something else. Now it’s a duty, more than concern for a friend and comrade. Rey is waiting for Poe to accept the task, to promise her he’ll do it. 

“Of course,” Poe tells her, nodding. Rey’s face melts into relief. 

“Thank you.” She whispers into the dark.

*

The next morning, Poe is there when Rey leaves with Chewbacca. There are people lined up to see her off, including the general herself. But before she boards the Falcon, she spends a moment with Finn in the med bay. Poe is too far to hear what she says, but he notices her kiss his forehead tenderly before stepping away. 

Rey stops Poe before she leaves, a small bundle in her arms that Poe recognizes almost instantly. The jacket he’d been wearing the day of the crash on Jakku, the one Finn had taken from the wreckage. Finn had believed it was the last thing of Poe left, had worn it with dignity and respect. He’d adopted it as his own, and Poe quickly realizes it has been sliced through with Ren’s lightsaber, clean and charred at the edges. 

“May the Force be with you,” Rey tells him, nodding. Poe nods back, then mouths the words _ Thank you _.

Rey leaves in the bright golden sunlight of morning. There is a sense of hope all around them, even the general, as she says goodbye. Poe can’t help but wonder what this will mean for them. He clutches this gift Rey has given him like a treasure, meaning something entirely different than it had even a week ago. This article of clothing is no longer Poe’s—this belongs entirely to Finn now. It has been marked with his bravery. 

*

Poe visits Finn in the medbay every evening after he’s completed his daily duties. Things are slow around the base for now, though everyone is waiting for the First Order to get back on their feet. Their attack caused some serious damage, but it isn’t going to bring them to their knees for much longer. Everyone is waiting with bated breath. This is war, after all. 

The doctors update Poe on Finn’s progress, and Poe comes each evening and tells Finn about his day, about the other pilots, about the lush forests and blue oceans of the planet. Poe wishes he could see Finn smile again, so bright and carefree. Poe studies the curve of his brow, the way his eyelashes rest on his cheek. He can’t help but notice he looks beautiful like this, almost like he’s sleeping. Poe thinks for a moment about the way Rey had kissed Finn’s forehead tenderly, a parting gesture. Poe wants to do the same, though he doesn’t dare touch Finn, almost afraid he’s not even real. Touching him could wreck the whole illusion. 

When the doctors finally kick Poe out of the medbay at the end of the night, he doesn’t resist. Their work here is hard enough, and he doesn’t want to add to their list of problems. Poe knows he’s a charmer, he can’t deny it. The doctors and medical assistants aren’t bothered by his presence during the evening. But even his charm can’t get him an extra hour or two in the night.

When Poe gets back to his quarters, he helps BB-8 onto his charging port and falls back onto his bed, letting the exhaustion of the day finally wash over him. As he lays on the uncomfortable mattress, he can’t help but think about the day they’d met. He remembers how he’d felt the moment he’d taken off his helmet, the breathlessness of seeing the face of a stormtrooper. Poe had been prepared to take the trooper down on his own and escape, but when he saw the look on Finn’s face, something stopped him. He didn’t know a stormtrooper could be so beautiful. He didn’t know anyone could be that beautiful.

He thinks of when they’d been reunited again that day on D’Qar, when Poe had realized Finn was alive. When they’d embraced, throwing all formalities out the window. When Poe had felt the leather of his own jacket under his palms. And when he’d given the jacket to Finn to keep. He’d kept his own secret to himself, of course: that he’d felt almost light-headed when he’d seen Finn in his clothes. 

Poe thinks about Finn in the forest with Kylo Ren, cold snow and burning wound blending together. Poe knows Finn had been in the snow for quite some time, because he’d come back with early stages of frostbite in his fingers and the tip of his nose. Luckily, not long enough to cause permanent damage, but enough to make Poe’s chest hurt thinking about Finn unconscious in the snow. 

His chest hurts often when he thinks about Finn.

In the corner of his eye, he sees the jacket folded neatly on the desk on the far corner of the room. Poe thinks about it again, and it occurs to him that it must be the first thing Finn’s ever owned. He thinks about the way he’d saved it from the wreckage, and wonders if it holds some sort of meaning to him.

Poe’s never been good at practical skills. Jess likes to joke sometimes that he could burn water, and he’s never been able to sew. His mother had been the same way. Most people learned those types of skills young from their parents, but Poe’s parents had been more interested in teaching him to fly solo before he’d even turned six. Working with a thread and needle? Not his forte. Snap usually did any mending for him, after he’d seen Poe’s crooked stitches on a shirt one time. 

“Give it,” Snap had almost groaned, unable to leave it alone. He held his hand out, waiting for Poe to hand over his shirt. “I can’t stand seeing your stitching, Poe. It drives me up the wall.”

Poe had been more than happy to hand it over, and every article of clothing that Snap had asked to mend since. But when Poe gets up to examine it, he notices that the saber has pretty much split the jacket in half, a clean line down the center of the back. Straight to Finn’s spine, Poe knows.

This is not something Snap should mend. Poe wants to do it himself, even if his stitching skills aren’t any good. He fumbles in the drawer of his desk, and he finds one lone needle and spool of thread, almost entirely unused. 

Poe lines up the split sections of the jacket, and for a moment appreciates that Kylo Ren was merciful enough not to tear it to shreds. It’s still salvageable. Broken, but still good. He carefully threads the needle and lines it up with the fabric, and gets to work.

*

The following days are as chaotic as everyone had predicted. Before Finn has woken up, a First Order fleet comes to D’Qar and the Resistance is evacuated. Finn goes with the medical unit, and Poe wishes he could be with him. But Poe has his own responsibilities too.

He brings nothing with him except the clothes on his back and the jacket he’s spent the past few days stitching together. To his credit, it doesn’t look that bad. When Snap gets a look at it, he’s admittedly impressed.

“Does this mean you don’t have to mend my clothes anymore?” Poe asks, grinning. Snap rolls his eyes. Poe thinks that probably means _ no _.

Instead, Snap claps Poe on the back says, “You’re a softie, Dameron. A bonafide softie.” Poe doesn’t really know what he means by that, but his ears get hot all the same.

Finn wakes up not much later, wandering around and scared stiff. He’s still confused, and there’s liquid spewing out from his protective suit, and Poe nearly runs over in relief to see him awake again. Poe helps him stand straight and manages to tell him he’s happy to see him before leading Finn back to the medical wing. 

When Finn’s finally coherent again, Poe feels sort of breathless about it all. He’s been waiting for this, counting on it, and here it is. But Finn is still processing everything. For him, Kylo Ren is yesterday. 

While Finn gets unhooked from the medical devices, Poe runs back to his quarters to get the jacket he’d stitched for Finn. He’s sharing with Jess and Snap for now, a tight fit for three people. He stashed the jacket under his pillow for safe-keeping. When he scoops it up, Jess notices where she sits on her bed. She quirks a smile.

“Go get him, lover boy,” she teases. Poe rolls his eyes at her, but still runs a hand through his hair and grins at her. 

“How do I look?” He jokes, and then slips out the door before she can answer. 

When he gets back, Finn is waiting for him. He’s wearing basic Resistance-issued clothes, a tan shirt and brown pants. He looks nervous, and when Poe sees his shoulders relax at the sight of him, he can’t help but feel pleased.

Finn peppers him with questions as they walk together. 

“So,” Finn says, while BB-8 trails behind, “you blew up Starkiller Base, Rey beat Kylo, and the Resistance got the memo. And you won, right?”

Poe presses his lips together, but nods. Technically, they did win. But it’s not exactly the same as winning the war. That day seems so far away, but Poe still hopes to see it someday. Finn stops walking, his face contorted in confusion.

“So why doesn’t this feel like winning?” Finn asks, and Poe can see he’s nervous. 

Poe is hyper-aware of how close they’re standing in the hallway, and it’s crowded enough without two people standing in the middle. “We came out of hiding to attack Starkiller. It didn’t take long for the First Order to find our base. Now, we gotta regroup and go back at ‘em.” He’s confident saying this, a commander talking about strategy. 

Finn looks at Poe with his kind eyes, the same ones Poe has been thinking about every day since Starkiller. “Look, I believe in what you guys are doing here, but I didn’t join this army. I don’t want you to think I’m something that I’m not—”

Poe can’t help but interrupt, because hearing Finn talk like this makes his heart bleed a little. “Hey—it’s fine. You’re alright. You’re here, with us, where you belong.” He resists the urge to say, _ with me _. Instead, he reaches for the jacket under his arm and presses it to Finn’s chest. He wishes he could have done this in a nicer way, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

When Finn examines the stitching, Poe can see the confusion on his face. “It’s your jacket,” Poe tells him. There’s a beat of silence, but before Finn can say anything Poe blurts out, “I’m not much of a sewer. But, you know. I was busy saving the entire fleet.” He wants to talk to him longer, wants to say something nicer or with more meaning, but how can he? Right now?

Stupidly, he thinks of Rey’s kiss on the forehead again. And he thinks about how she asked Poe to be there when Finn woke up, to watch over him. So he just keeps leading Finn down the hallway, hoping for another victory ahead, something.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on twitter: @rebeipoe :)


End file.
